Anticipation_(0)

Megan Swanson is a intern in LA at the music recording studio I own. On a recent visit to the studio I was introduced to Megan. She is a very attractive young woman with long red hair, beautiful blue eyes, a hot curvy body, 23 year old single college student. Megan is handed an envelope, she pull out the invitation and is immediately shocked by its elegant flare. The invitation is square, black, textured paper with silver text. On the left side is an ornate corporate symbol. She is mesmerized by elegance, she runs her fingers over it, feeling the indentation from the printing. It’s silver and emerald green with long flowing ribbons, jewels and glitter on the face and a few feathers on the very top. It’s beautiful. Her eyes dart to the invitation information.

You are cordially invited to Dinner
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Hors d’oeuvres 6 p.m. – 7 p.m.
Dinner and dancing 7 p.m. – midnight
RSVP by Friday, January 11, to Alicia Page at xxx.xxx.xxxx or apage@xx-x.xorg

Upon confirmation of your RSVP to attend, the location of the dinner will be provided. My dark hair with a touch of gray and piercing green eyes intrigue her. I’d be her “type” if I were not thirty years older then her. If I were not the CEO of Malone Industries. Megan arrives at work the next day, late as usual. Rushing once again to her desk, she finds a beautifully wrapped box on her desk. She set her things down and go to the present. The paper is a gorgeous shade of green – deep emerald – with silver swirls all over it. The package is tied with silver and black ribbon. It looks almost too pretty to open, she is excited to find out who sent it. She looks for a card, but there isn’t one on the present. Megan checks around and under the desk, the floor of the office and her keyboard tray, but there’s no card or note. ” That’s strange,” She thinks. Maybe the card’s inside.

Megan gingerly unties the bow slipping her finger under the tape. She is trying carefully not to rip the paper; it’s just so beautiful. Normally, she dives into presents with gusto, ripping off the paper like it’s a spectator sport, but this is just so exquisite; She doesn’t want to ruin it. The paper is thick, glossy and very smooth like velvet. Once the paper is removed, she takes the lid off the black box, moves the tissue paper aside, and her eyes observe a exquisite diamond necklace. It’s the most magnificent necklace she has ever seen. It’s unbelievably beautiful, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Megan picks it up, off the lush velvet box lining, so soft. It has a nice weight to it but not too heavy to be worn. It looks and feels very expensive, and she wonders who would have sent such an extravagant gift. Again, she looks for a card and sees a sliver of white peeking out under the velvet lining. It’s a small card, like the ones florists use, and has two words in an ornate black script: Wear This. Feeling a bit like Alice who’s fallen down the rabbit hole and is being asked to eat this or drink this, she turns the card over looking for a signature or any indication of who sent it. There’s nothing. ” Curiouser and curiouser,” She thinks. Megan packs up the necklace, sets the box aside and goes about the rest of her busy day, only glancing occasionally at it out of the corner of her eye.

When she gets back to her desk after lunch there’s an envelope on it with the same elegant writing I’ve seen several times this week. Megan opens the envelope pulling out the card. It reads: If you decide to attend the dinner tomorrow night, wear what you’ve been given and meet a car and driver outside your townhouse at 5:30 p.m. sharp. He will bring you to the dinner. Don’t forget your invitation. I look forward to seeing you. It’s stamped with the seal she saw previously on the invitation and has the name Malone Industries at the top of the card. After 30 minutes we arrive at a large mansion in Beverly Hills. Lights softly line the walkway and steps to the front door, she see shapes moving behind the closed curtains. Megan quickly pulls out her phone and she is relieved to see she has strong cell coverage. She checks her necklace, hair and lipstick in her compact and steps out of the opened door thanking the driver and offering a tip which he refuses. She makes her way up the steps to the front door and with a bit of trepidation, opens it and walks through.

Not surprisingly, the entryway is stunning. High ceilings, beautiful art and decor line the walls along with an extremely large floral arrangement on a table in the foyer. A greeter meets her as she walks in and takes her to a table, she gives her name but apologizes for not RSVPing. The planner smiles, finds her name on her iPad and hands her a long-stemmed red rose. ” Welcome, Ms. Swanson. Enjoy dinner,” she chirps in her effervescent voice. The mansion is dazzling with lavish decor, expensive furniture, floral arrangements (some with cascading vines down the walls), lush velvet and sheer fabrics, intricate sconces holding flickering candles and beautiful chandeliers casting soft lighting throughout the various rooms. She feels like she has been transported back in time to an era when lavish balls for nobility were the norm. I have been looking forward to seeing Megan and I am excited we have finally meet. I escort Megan to a secluded room with a nice bar for drinks. Upon seeing each other, I hug and kiss her cheek. After ordering drinks, and as we sit together, we chat. Megan is very nervous sitting in the secluded corner of the room, after a few minutes I suggest we go upstairs. When we get to the room, I pour her a glass of wine. We sit on the couch and enjoy chatting. Megan looks down sees my cock hardening in my trousers, the fly stretched from the pressure of my cock head.

Megan lets her eyes linger a little long there. I smile, ” Yes.” I look down at my crotch, following her eyes. ” Do you have a boyfriend, Megan? I ask. Megan stammers then says ” Yes.” ” Has he fucked you?” Megan didn’t answer. ” He may have fucked you. But not the way you like it?